


Spider Gang Spider Gang Spider Gang Spider Gang Spider Gang

by GalekhXigisi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), F/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:57:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: Peter Parker goes into the Spider-verse but it's crack taken seriously





	Spider Gang Spider Gang Spider Gang Spider Gang Spider Gang

The spider was no normal spider as it pressed it’s way up the teenager’s leg. The boy couldn’t have been any older than fourteen, youthful looking with wild curls and doe-like eyes that had earned him the nickname  _ Bambi _ from his parents. Bruises liter his skin, though the spider doesn’t know why. They just know that  _ this _ is the one, the one that they want to carry on their unknown legacy.  _ This _ boy will be the one to help. 

 

It’s in the spider’s DNA to bite, though where it’s written is unknown. After all, the spider was only a few hours old. Genetically engineered with millions of others. They fought their way out of the egg sack, killed others in a fierce determination to get out into the world and  _ bite. _ Most would die and very few would actually get a bite in. Those that were bit would most likely die from venom or poisoning. People would die tonight, just as the spiders would after twenty-four hours, just as they were made to be. It was all just a matter of time before their death approached like the march of a rebellion. 

 

The child freezes up, glancing in the mirror just a millisecond before the spider gets a harsh bite into his hand. He flinches so hard that it almost throws the spider then and there. Serum and venom mix, injected into his skin, subtly lighting up his skin. In the bright room, no one can tell, not even the boy himself, who pushes up his glasses and gently plucks the spider off his hand after he gets his grounds. Or, more so, after he realizes the spider has let go and is staring at him with wide eyes. 

 

WIthout the serum, the spider will no longer die, given a few extra hours before their knowing demise. The teenager opens the bathroom window, putting the spider out with a frown. “Now, stop biting people, little spider,” he chides just before shutting the window back again, a hand passively rubbing over the bite with a frown. It itches and burns like Hell, but he ignores it in favor of washing it off and putting an itch cream on it. 

 

The serum kills people, a multitude of them, but it could have overpowered the venom if someone’s DNA took to it. Out of the hundreds that got bitten that day, only one made it through, the teenager who seemed to be named  _ Peter Benjamin Parker. _ Everyone else died or simply didn’t get affected at all, the spider bite is too weak or the serum just being rejected, often times both. 

 

But that had been years ago. Now, Peter stood in front of  _ others, _ a boy and girl both attempting to comfort him… He thinks? He’s not exactly sure because the girl with dirty blonde hair is glaring at him and the mocha-skinned boy was attempting to offer him food. Instead of letting out a greeting, his voice immediately goes almost silent as he begs, “Please, don’t hurt me.” 

 

The boy raises a brow. “Dude,” he scoffs softly, disbelieving, “What’d you go through for that to be your first response?” 

 

Peter looks at him, questioning his tone. Even the girl seems somewhat taken aback by his instinctual _ don’t hurt me. _ He guesses that wasn’t the way he should have gone because they’re both staring at his, mouths open, brows furrowed, eyes somewhat wide. 

 

“Uh… I’ve died, I guess?” He shrugs passively. 

 

“You’ve  _ died,” _ the girl questions, jerking forward from where she was leaning against a brick wall. 

 

Peter stiffens, immediately going to explain himself. “Well, I mean, Mister Stark saved me! Sort of! And then he died and Misses Stark, or maybe she’s just Misses Potts, was holding him and we carried him back! Thanos got dusted and everything, too!” 

 

“What the Hell are you talking about,” a third person asks, one that Peter hadn’t noticed yet. He stood against the wall, tall and calm as can be. It’s more than just a little intimidating to see him stand with his eyes passively looking at the other. He pushes off the wall, too, face coming into the light. It’s the same as Peter’s first suit from Mister Stark. A green jacket over it, five o’clock shadow across his face, and a collection of gray hairs are the only differences between him and the other man aside from the clear age difference. 

 

“What’d you mean? Where’s Bucky?” 

 

“Who’s Bucky,” the boy asks. 

o

“Winter Soldier? White Wolf? That guy that looks like Sebastian Stan from Hottub Time Machine?” 

 

“I don’t know what any of those are, kid,” the oldest supplies. 

 

Peter’s brows furrow before he remembers his spidey senses buzzing earlier, angry before the static had consumed him. “Is this that multiverse stuff Mister Mysterio was talking about?” 

 

“I guess,” the girl answers with a shrug, “Don’t know who that is, but probably.” 

 

“He’s a lying douche,” the tallest provides. He leans down, offering a hand up to pick up Peter from the ground. “Name’s Peter B. Parker. The girl is Gwen, the boy is Miles.” 

 

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” the teen provides before he lets himself be pulled up. 

 

“What’s your story, kid?” 

 

“My story?” 

 

Peter B nods. “Yeah, We’ve had three different Peters and lots of other Spider-men, women, and a few in between. I saved New York a bunch of times, married Mary Jane, buried May, got back together

 

“I buried Peter Parker in my world,” Gwen supplies. 

 

Miles nods. “And I buried my uncle.” 

 

Peter frowns at the three, brows furrowed. “Um, buried my parents when I was a kid, uncle when I was fourteen, fought with the Avengers, got a Stark internship, saved New York, almost died, got a building thrown on me,  became an official Avenger, fought Thanos, died, came back and fought a war against Thanos again, watched Mister Stark die, buried him, went on a date with MJ,got recruited by Nick Fury, fought with Mysterio, buried my aunt, now I live with Pepper Potts, Morgan stark, and Harley Keener.” 

 

“Jesus, kid,” Peter B supplies. 

 

He raises a brow. “Yeah, that could have been a lot shorter. Fought a war and watched everyone close to me die right in front of me is a lot shorter, right?” 

 

The looks of horror aren’t exactly what he expects, nor are they  _ not _ what he expects. 

 

“Guess I should have turned off some lights with such dark humor, hm?” 

 

“Dude, are you okay,” Miles asks softly. 

 

“Yeah, I’m good. Now, can you explain to me why I’m here and stuff?”

**Author's Note:**

> Aye, yeah, fuck this fic


End file.
